My outstretched arms surpass the point <br />Of normal, taxing every joint <br />By reaching, gasping, pulling in <br />The cloistered thoughts that lie within. <br /> <br />We meet in quiet, swathed in night, <br />Our bodies bathed in candlelight, <br />As words are whispered, sparsely spread <br />Between the bureau and the bed, <br /> <br />Where, skin-on-soul, our friction roars <br />While each of us, in turn, explores— <br />The vastness shuts—a shrink-wrapped world <br />Containing two, enclosed and curled <br /> <br />Together in contented bliss, <br />A rhythm set, no breath amiss <br />Within the syncopated shell <br />Of our imagined wishing well, <br /> <br />Which shimmers not with silver coins, <br />But softly gleams, as love enjoins, <br />With eyes awash in dancing hues, <br />A flashing mesh of browns and blues. <br /> <br />Our funneled gazes turn the lock <br />On earthly cares, to catch the clock— <br />11: 59—pre-chime, <br />Before it strikes our ending time— <br /> <br />Instead, we claim the lives we know, <br />The challenges, the chores, although <br />One day, with limitations gone, <br />Perhaps our dream will sidle on <br /> <br />Beyond the Cinderella toll, <br />Where, unencumbered, we could roll <br />Towards a truth, on steady wheels, <br />Of freer time, and new ideals.<br /><br />Bridgid Patrick<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/cinderella-bella/
